


Joy In The Understanding

by eeyore9990



Series: 30 Thankful Days [14]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bonding, Emissary Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Mind Meld, True Alpha Scott McCall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-05-01 16:43:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5213261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eeyore9990/pseuds/eeyore9990
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When an Alpha bonds with their emissary the first time, there is a period of time when their minds are open to each other.  For each pairing, it is different.  For Scott and Stiles, it's rather more eye-opening than either of them expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Joy In The Understanding

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AnneinColor](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=AnneinColor).



> 30 Thankful Days, Day 14: Gift for quicklikelight

"Got a minute, Dumbledore?" Stiles called, poking his head through the doorway of Deaton's office where Deaton was going over some last minute preparations for the ritual that would seal Stiles' position as emissary for the McHale pack. 

(Yes, Stiles was the only one who called it that. No, he didn't care that no one else had taken up the portmanteau for the pack. ...Much.) 

With a barely-there sigh, Deaton looked up and blinked once, his face set in calm, cool lines as he said, "Yes, Professor Snape?" 

Stiles, question on the tip of his tongue, drew back with a scowl. "Hey! Insulting! I'm _clearly_ the Ron Weasley of this relationship." 

"Obsessed with a red-haired Muggleborn witch for most of your life, gifted at the Dark Arts with a fine enough understanding of Potions to teach it to others…" 

Pointing a finger at him, Stiles tried to find a way to refute that before he curled his finger down into his fist and shook it at Deaton. "Whatever. Neville was the real hero anyway. Now, um." Stiles blinked, mouth opening and closing as he tried to remember what the hell he'd come to Deaton for in the first place. "Oh! Right. So I was wondering, since you were the emissary for the Hale pack…" Stiles walked in and sat down on the only other chair in the office, a spinny one, which was almost too much to resist. "I just wanted to know what it feels like." 

"The bond is different for everyone, Stiles," Deaton said, and for the first time there was something almost _kind_ in his expression. Or maybe it was sympathy. "The bond between Alpha and emissary is different for each pair. Talia Hale was a born wolf, a very powerful Alpha with a large pack." 

"And you're a druid." 

Deaton waved one hand through the air as if dispelling fumes. "That has little to do with it. The way one studies magic, the path we choose to learn to control it and bind it to us, matters little in the end." Deaton sat there studying Stiles as he whooshed back and forth in the chair before he asked, "What is it you really want to know, Stiles?" 

Stiles stopped, his body perfectly still even as his heart beat went a little crazy in his chest. "Scott is a True Alpha. What if I'm not… good enough?" 

Deaton steepled his fingers together, a few lines marring his placid expression. "You have always led with your mind, Scott with his heart. The merging of the two bodes well for your bond. You will be a very strong unit. As to your fears… I would tell you that your fierce devotion and loyalty to Scott will make you his match, I would tell you that there is no limit to the power you can wield if you keep your wits about you, but they would just be words to you. You've completed your studies and are as prepared as I can make you. The rest is for you to decide." 

Scowling, Stiles jumped to his feet and went to the door. "Do I have to be a cryptic asshole to the next generation? Is that a thing? Because it sucks." 

"Of course not, Mr. Stilinski," Deaton said, turning back to his preparations but not before Stiles caught the shadow of a smile on his face. "That's merely a bonus." 

\-- 

"Hey," Scott said, his warm hand running up Stiles' back, settling at the nape of his neck. "You okay?" 

Bouncing on the balls of his feet, Stiles nodded his head and said, "Absolutely not." Then, betrayed by his own mouth, he deflated, leaning in toward Scott until Scott gave in and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "I'm just worried. I don't want to be the reason our pack falls apart. I hate being the weak link." 

Scott tugged on him, shaking him gently before knocking their heads together. "That's not gonna happen, dude. All the shit we've been through? A little magical bonding ceremony in the woods isn't going to faze us a bit. Besides, you've never been the weak link. That's Jackson." 

Stiles snorted and closed his eyes, soaking up this last minute of quiet before the ritual started. "Just remember that when our minds are joined and you get to see inside this noggin in full technicolor glory." When he said that, Scott's hand spasmed a bit on his shoulder, prompting Stiles to look up with a frown. "Hey, are _you_ okay? I mean, seriously, I know it's gonna be a little invasive, but it'll settle down in like a day or two. And I mean, come on. You _know_ you wanna know what's going on in my head." 

"Dude, _no one_ knows what's going on in your head, not even you," Scott said, grinning brightly even as he avoided Stiles' gaze. Not by a lot, he was looking _in the direction_ of Stiles' eyes, but it was like… It was like he was staring _between_ Stiles' eyes instead of into them. 

Red alert, all hands on deck, Scott was nervous about something. 

"Do you not want to do this?" Stiles asked, skin prickling as panic began to swamp him. 

"What?!" Eye contact going solid and unshakeable then, Scott stared at Stiles with a sorrowful puppy expression. "No, Stiles. I mean, yes, I want to do this. No, I don't _not_ want to do this. You can't back out now. I just… I don't want you to freak out over anything you see in my head, you know?" 

Relaxing, Stiles drove his elbow into Scott's ribs. "Whatever Disney movie is playing in there won't scare me off. You know this." 

Scott's smile wobbled a little, but his half-hug turned into a full one when he pulled Stiles tight against him. "I love you, dude. You're my best friend." 

"You're my Scott," Stiles murmured, a little thrown but wholeheartedly in favor of Scott-hugs. He pressed his hands into the warm, bare skin of Scott's back, crossing his arms as he dragged them up to grip each shoulder and returned Scott's hug with all the strength he could muster. "I love you too, man." 

Scott broke the hug, nodding even as his face went solemn and a little sad. "Yeah. I know." 

"Gentlemen, the moon is nearing its zenith," Deaton called, interrupting them before Stiles could pester Scott to tell him what was wrong. 

Stiles looked up at the pitch black sky, then lowered his gaze to stare at Deaton. "How do you _know_ that? You can't see the damn thing." 

"Regardless of the amount of light the new moon reflects, astrological charts put it at its zenith in forty nine seconds, so I would urge you to take your places." 

Nodding, Stiles hurried to the center of the clearing and stood on his spot, waiting for Scott to step up in front of him. He counted the seconds down in his head, and knew he was almost out of time when he asked, "Are you sure you want to do this, bro?" 

Scott nodded, his shoulders going high and proud as he stared back at Stiles. "Whatever else happens, I'm absolutely certain that you're the only one I want by my side." 

Stiles' eyes went wide, his muscles nearly liquid with the sense of overwhelming awe that statement made swell in him. He couldn't say anything, his heart lodged too firmly in his throat to be able to speak around it. But he made sure when he reached out to clasp Scott's forearm that his grip was tight. That the strength of his hold on Scott could convey the way he returned the sentiment. 

Then Deaton, the great moment ruiner, was burning some psychotropic herbs and chanting over their joined arms and the world began to spun dizzyingly. Even as Deaton retreated from the clearing, Stiles' vision wavered, went red-tinged at the edges, and he could _feel_ Scott. He could feel all of Scott, from his pure heart to his beautiful soul, and the weight of the bond sent Stiles to his knees, gasping and crying freely as Scott collapsed with him. Every emotion, every fear that Scott felt was as clear to Stiles as his own. And it was somewhere in that fear that Stiles understood Scott's earlier hesitation. 

Stiles let go of Scott's forearm, but only so he could crawl closer, so he could wrap himself around Scott and hold him with everything Stiles had. "Are you stupid?" Stiles asked, his voice broken. _Wrecked._ "In what universe, in what point on the space-time continuum, could I ever not love you back?!" 

Scott tipped his head back, face distorted by the change, but still Stiles' beautiful, wonderful Scotty. "I didn't know. I thought you--" 

Stiles shook his head, the movement so forceful it nearly made him topple over. "You've been the center of my entire universe since I was four years old. I peed on your sand castle because I couldn't pee on _you._ I'm a ridiculous, jealous mess, and how… How did you not know?" 

Scott buried his face in Stiles' chest, his shoulders heaving as he mumbled incoherently. But the waves of ecstatic love that were flowing, in _both_ directions through their bond, were undeniable. Rolling them, Scott stretched out over Stiles' body, his face pressed to Stiles' neck as he inhaled great big shaky breaths. "You're my heart." 

"You're my conscience, so that's fair," Stiles whispered back, his breath catching as a wave of joy seized him. Joy that started with Scott and flooded through him, rebounding back and forth on a loop. Unable, _unwilling_ to stop himself, Stiles pushed on Scott's face until he raised up, and then they were kissing. 

It was fierce and terrifying, and Scott's teeth were still long and pointy and potentially deadly, but Stiles was old friends with danger. And the only thing that could have stopped Stiles from having the man in his arms at that point was Scott, who showed absolutely no signs of slowing him down. 

They rolled together, each _needing_ to touch the other, needing the sensory input to go with the blow-open channel of emotion. They needed to feel with their hands and bodies and mouths the same intensity that they felt with their hearts and minds and souls. Their breaths mingled, little puffs of laughter echoing through the clearing even as their few articles of clothing were shredded from their skin to allow them to press as close as skin would allow. 

Stiles would crawl inside Scott's body with him if it were possible. 

Scott shouted a laugh to the sky, his hands kneading at Stiles' hips, and then… the emotion changed, the purity taking on a darker note, a needier scent and taste. They kissed then with all the pent-up longing and overwhelming desire that had been building for years. Since the day Stiles looked at Scott and saw something more precious to him than blood. 

They tasted the flavor of passion on each other and returned it ten fold, bodies writhing in a sensuous dance among the dirt and leaves. Scott bared his throat to Stiles, whining high and reedy as Stiles sunk his teeth as deep as he could without tearing through skin and muscle and bone. And in return, Stiles felt like he was shaking apart at a molecular level, like he would vibrate so hard he'd shatter, but Scott's arms were there, gathering him in, pulling him close and tight to Scott and holding him still. Holding him so still that the cacophony of voices in Stiles' head quieted. His limbs went lax, loose and ready. 

"I've got you," Scott whispered. "You're mine." 

Nosing along Scott's jaw, Stiles sighed, "Yeah. Mine. My Scotty." 

The sense of _home_ that twanged through the bond told Stiles that Scott finally understood, after all these years. And there was joy in the understanding. 


End file.
